


White Lips, Pale Face

by Youarethelightoftheworld



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, John Saves Sherlock, Johnlock Fluff, Johnlock Roulette, Love, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Slash, True Love, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 14:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youarethelightoftheworld/pseuds/Youarethelightoftheworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warmth, light.</p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>“My name is John.”</p><p>Sherlock slips into a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Team

_Breathing in the snowflakes_

Tall, pale, dark – stumbling down Baker Street. 

Unsteady, unaware, unkempt.

Shivering.

221\. 221. 221. Right here…

Fading.  Falling.

Gone.

 

* * *

 

_Closed eye, and hoping for a better life_

Sherlock’s eyes open, and then close.  He is in his bed, wrapped in a filthy duvet.  How long since he last washed it?

His return to consciousness is always paired with disorientation, and when a cold, wet flannel is pressed to his forehead, he pulls back in surprise. 

“Mycroft?”

“No. I saw you faint, and, well…I brought you up here.  I spoke to your landlady. You’ve been out for about an hour.”

He does not know that voice.

He’s so tired.  The pleasure of detachment is beginning to fade, and the pain is returning, bringing with it his most common thought:

More. More. More.

I need it. Get me some, please god, get me some. 

Exhaustion is taking over.  Just as he is about to submit to it, a tentative hand brushes the damp hair off of his forehead. 

A different kind of pleasure, one he is not familiar with, stems from the touch. 

Warmth. Light.

“Who are you?”

“My name is John.”

Sherlock slips into a dream.

 

  


	2. Wake Me Up

Two months after fainting outside his flat, Sherlock Holmes cannot get rid of John Watson.

When he'd woken up that day, the man had  _still been there,_ slouched in a chair next to his bed.  Sherlock had stared at his sleeping form for about .5 seconds before deciding that this just would not do.

Sherlock Holmes did not need help.  From anyone. 

And yet, John kept returning.  He would stop by the flat in the morning before going to work at the clinic, sometimes bringing tea and other times just staying for a quick chat. It was completely unnecessary. It was infuriating.  

Until it wasn't.

John had given very little explanation for his actions, and didn't seem to think that the situation was strange at all.  Before long, it simply became common for John to be in the flat.

It was not surprising that John was the one who found him lying there.

 

* * *

 

_Maybe I’m just in love when you wake me up_

If John hadn't known better, he would have thought that Sherlock was sleeping.

“Wake up, Sherlock. Wake up.  God, no…”

Slow breathing, blue lips.

Sirens.

 

* * *

 

_You will never know just how beautiful you are to me_

The lights were burning Sherlock’s eyes.

“John. The lights.”

John snapped to attention and leapt from his bedside chair, placing his hands on either side of Sherlock’s shoulders. He leaned in close, eyes wide and staring.

“You’re awake.”

“The lights, John.”

John hurried to close the curtains and turn off the lights in the hospital room.  He slumped against the wall, breathing hard and fast.  Relief seeped through him. 

He met Sherlock’s eyes across the room, and the words didn’t need to be said out loud. Sherlock could see them in his eyes.

Never again.

 

* * *

 

_Maybe I fell in love when you woke me up_

After the overdose, something shifted between them.  

Sherlock had found something he didn't want to destroy.

When John entered the flat one week later, he found Sherlock at the kitchen table with his head in his hands.  John heard him speak two words, barely louder than a whisper.

“Help me.”

 


	3. Give Me Love

When the withdrawal set in, it rocked them both to the core.

John took one look at Sherlock writhing on the bed in pain and called the clinic to tell them that he would not be in that week.

  

* * *

 

_Give a little time to me, we’ll burn this out_

The need was all encompassing, blocking out everything else.  Sherlock was locked in his mind, pushing back as hard as he could against the desire to find some, anywhere, now now now, and nothing else penetrated his thoughts. 

He wasn't strong enough for this.

And then, he sensed a warmth somewhere near his charged and shivering body.

He reached out a hand, grasping at air.

The warmth moved. A hand found his.

It pulled him out of the darkness.

 

* * *

  

_You know I’ll fight my corner_

Sherlock's voice shook John’s resolve to stay calm more than anything else.

He had grown used to Sherlock’s deep, commanding tone.  Even when he was high, which, truthfully, was most of the time, he managed to sound confident and strong.

That voice was gone, now.

“Oh god, John, it hurts, please, everything aches…help me, get me some, please, _please.”_

The sound nearly broke John in half.

 

* * *

 

At 3 am, neither one of them had slept.

Sherlock’s breathing was rough, and his fingers tugged at his hair as if hoping to tear the pain in his head away.

Tears gleamed on his eyelashes as he whispered the same word over and over:

"Please…please…please…"

John, who had been pacing the room in a fit of anxiety, now seemed to come to some sort of decision. He turned towards the bed and climbed in next to Sherlock.

“Come here.”

Sherlock felt himself being pulled back until he rested against John’s chest and his head fell back onto his shoulder. Fingers stroked his temple, his ears, and his cheekbones, making tiny circles.

When John touched him, the warmth seeped into his veins.

John’s words traveled slowly through the haze, murmured in his ear like a prayer:

“I cannot give you what you are asking for, Sherlock.  But if you give that up, you can have me instead.  I’m here, Sherlock.  Stay with me, now. Please, stay with me.”

Sherlock fell asleep to the sound of John’s voice.

 

 


	4. You Need Me, I Don't Need You

_People think that I’m bound to blow up_

John burst through the door of 221, shouting a quick hello to Mrs. Hudson and hurrying up the stairs.  

“I found you a job!”

Sherlock shot him a disbelieving look.

“A job, John? Jobs are dull.”

“This one isn't.  I spoke to my friend Greg - yes, Sherlock I have _friends,_ don’t scoff – and he said he needs someone to take notes for him at crime scenes.  Someone to keep track of all the evidence, or something. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

“John, that sounds exceptionally horrid.  My mind will not tolerate _note-taking._ ”

The hopeful look fell from John’s face, and Sherlock felt dimly pleased with himself.  He’d been clean for one week, and the effort was making him extremely irritable.

“Honestly, John, I am entirely too intelligent for such a menial occupation.”

Suddenly, John was frighteningly angry.

“Well, Sherlock, as you’ve been addling your brain with revolting _drugs_ , you may need to reevaluate that statement and take what you can get!  You _need_ this job!”

“I do not _need_ anything, John, least of all you, and I certainly do not require your help finding employment.  Why are you even here? Why are you _always_ here? Can't you just _leave me alone_?”

Silence.

The force of the slam shook the door on its hinges.

Sherlock went to the window and watched John go. 

 

* * *

 

_And I can’t, no, I won’t hush_

John heard the taxi pull up and watched from the window as Sherlock jumped out, dressed in a well-tailored suit. 

John had never seen him in a suit before.

He opened the door.

 

* * *

 

_You need me_

“Come with me, John.”

“Where are we going?”

“Crime scene. Next question.”

“Why should I?”

The smug look fell from Sherlock's face and was replaced with a timid one.  

“Because I need you.”

John nodded.

 

* * *

 

_I won’t stay put, give me the chance to be free_

The notepad had long since been forgotten.

Greg stood with his mouth open and eyes wide as Sherlock Holmes circled the body, rattling off deductions and solving a crime that had befuddled every professional at the Yard.

When Sherlock glanced up and met John’s eyes, he was shocked by the adoration that he saw in them. No one ever looked at him like that.

Unexpectedly, the memory of John's fingers stroking his face burst into his mind, causing his stomach to flutter. 

It was the first deduction that John had seen him make.  The first he had made out loud in months.

“Brilliant.”


	5. Lego House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I'm really enjoying writing this. <3

_If you’re broken, I will mend you_

John and Sherlock entered the flat and fell against the wall, out of breath and laughing quietly so as not to wake Mrs. Hudson.

“That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and let the sound of John’s laughter heal him, replacing the desires he'd fought against with something else entirely. 

“John. Will you stay here tonight?”

John looked up, his cheeks flushed pink.

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

_I’ll do it all for you, in time_

They were both unsure of what to do.

They ended up sitting on the couch, cross-legged and knees touching, just looking at each other.

After a few moments, Sherlock spoke timidly, staring pointedly at his hands.

“I'm surprised you’re here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never had anyone stay with me this long.  I frighten people away.  It’s what I do. Even my family can barely stand to be around me.”

John placed one finger under Sherlock’s chin, lifting gently until their eyes met. The warmth practically radiated from John's skin.

“Look at me, Sherlock.  I’m not frightened.”

Sherlock shifted onto his knees, taking John’s hands and peering into his eyes.

“What are you?”

John paused, exhaling slowly.

“Happy.”

_It's all for you_

Sherlock's grip tightened, and a tiny, beautiful smile appeared on his face.

“So am I.”

_Out of all these things I’ve done, I will love you better now_

Sherlock stood up, pulling John along with him.

 


	6. Kiss Me

_Settle down with me, and I’ll be your safety._

They shut the bedroom door behind them.

Press against it.

Soft and shy,

Then brave.

Foreheads press together, eyes meet-

Now, now, now.

 

* * *

 

 

_Kiss me like you wanna be loved_

Sherlock moves closer, and in spite of everything, John is surprised.

It is soft and slow, and just a little sad.

The pain, there on the surface-

Of everything they’ve been through,

And everything they've overcome.

It will not be ignored.

 

* * *

 

_I'm cold as the wind blows, so hold me in your arms_

Underneath it all are words that John can’t say:

Promise me you won’t go back.

Please don't hurt me.

Let me be enough.

Let me save you.

 

* * *

_This feels like falling in love_

Three words spoken into the darkness:

“You already have.”

 

* * *

 

John moves in.

The days pass quickly in a blur of new clients, kisses, loud disagreements, and eventual compromises.

Sherlock begins calling himself a consulting detective - the only one in the world.

John memorizes every inch of Sherlock’s body without even trying - every scar, freckle, and eyelash.

Sherlock learns how to laugh.

The warmth has taken hold of 221B, settling in the walls and making it into a home.

Two years pass.

 

 

 


	7. Autumn Leaves

It happens on a Tuesday.

Sherlock fails to solve a case, and two young boys are murdered. 

John knows what Sherlock has done before he even walks through the door. After all, Sherlock has taught him to deduce these things.

He finds him on the couch, and their eyes meet.

_Is it that it’s over or do birds still sing for you?_

John turns and leaves.

Sherlock is already far away. 

 

* * *

 

When John enters the apartment the next morning, Sherlock has returned to himself.

He sits in the same spot that John found him in long ago, his head in his hands.

When he looks up, his face is wet with tears.

He stands, shivering, and walks slowly towards John.

Places one trembling hand on John’s face.

John shoves him against the wall.

 

* * *

 

_Another tear, another cry, another place for us to die_

For a moment, they are still - frozen in time,

And then John surges forward, crashing their lips together.

He slams his fist on the wall, so close to Sherlock’s head,

Thrusts his hips forward,

And the portrait hanging next to them crashes to the floor.

A zipper is pulled down

A hand shoves in, under, around

Grasping, stroking

Sherlock moans.

Gasps,

Cries,

Shudders,

Exhales.

Their eyes meet for one small moment.

John falls to his knees

And sobs.

 

* * *

 

_You’re miles away, and yesterday you were here with me_

“John…”

“No _.”_

“Please _-”_

_Another life that’s gone to waste, another light gone from your face_

John packs his bags.

Sherlock shivers.


	8. Sunburn

  
_I’ve moved far away from you_

John wakes up alone every morning and makes tea.

He goes to the clinic and stays later than is necessary.

He learns how to cook and always makes more than one person can eat.

He reads,

He watches his favorite shows,

He goes on dates.

Not one day passes without the thought of Sherlock.

_You scarred and left me, like a sunburn_

He develops a limp.

 

* * *

 

_We never even tried, we never even talked_

Sherlock doesn’t sleep.

He solves crimes and makes deductions out loud, even when he’s alone.

He reads.

He teaches himself how to play the violin, but plays for no one.

He doesn’t laugh, or even smile.

He is always cold.

_I want to see you here, beside me dear_

Three months pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the next chapter might be the last, my friends. Thanks for sticking with me :D


	9. This

John runs into his friend Mike Stamford on the street, and they stop for a coffee.   They haven’t seen each other in years.

He tells Mike that he doesn’t know anyone who would want to be his flatmate, and Mike smiles.

 

* * *

 

“Here’s the lab, John.  Come on in.”

“Bit different from my… ”

John freezes.

He stumbles backwards,

Stares.

Sherlock does not look up.

“Mike, can I borrow your phone?”

“Sorry, it’s in my coat.”

John's eyes flutter shut.

_This is the start of something beautiful_

One deep breath. 

One step forward.

“Here. Use mine.”

Sherlock looks up,

And the petri dish in his hand snaps in two. 

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity.

When John’s mouth curves into a hopeful smile,

Sherlock beams.

_Take me back, take me home_

* * *

 

_And I throw it all away and watch you fall into my arms again_

Some wounds are not so easily healed.

There is so much grief, and guilt, and hurt.

And while they both try their hardest to mend the cracks,

It almost isn’t enough.

Touches are hesitant,

And words are spoken with caution.

But as time passes, they grow strong again.

One afternoon, while drinking tea in 221B, Sherlock looks up and sees trust in John’s eyes once more. 

He falls to his knees and vows never to break it again. 

 

* * *

 

_You are the earth I will stand upon, you are the words I will sing_

Three weeks after finding each other at Barts, John moves back in.

That night, they share a bed for the first time in months.

Sherlock brushes his lips against John’s forehead.

John laces their fingers together under the covers.

No words are spoken.

John falls asleep on Sherlock’s shoulder, and Sherlock is warm again.

  

* * *

 

“The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places.  But still there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater.”

\--J.R.R. Tolkien,  _The Lord of the Rings_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading this, I am very appreciative of you! :) THANK YOU! Come be friends with me on tumblr, I'm youarethelightoftheworld !


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